Legacy
by TheInkredibleHanny
Summary: After the infamous Day and June escape the Republic, a new legend arises: Rose. Kidnapped from the new Electors office by rebel Paris, Rose finds herself on the other side of the fence caught in the middle of a war of country and love. R&R please!
1. Chapter 1

I stand at attention along with everyone else in the streets as the music for the Pledge streams into the streets. It is crowded today in the square; usually things are a lot quieter. I see people staring at me, at my nice clothing, and muttering under their breaths. I know they somehow recognize me, the second prodigal, the golden girl, the new Elector's favorite prized possession. I stare past them as if I can't hear them, as if I don't understand what they're saying. It's hopeless, though. I can read their body language, their cold stares like an open book: they know and loathe me.

Immediately after the Pledge has ended and everyone has saluted to the new Elector's glowing face on the JumboTrons, new pictures are to follow, all young men and women, different faces, all unique and beautiful, with the words "killed in combat" stamped in red across their faces. This is a new system the Republic is trying out, a new way of telling everyone that the Colonies need to be dealt with, fast. Since the events having to deal with the infamous Day and the runaway rogue "first" Prodigal, June, the Republic has gone through a world of change. That was all when I was nine. After the glorious first Elector died and his young son took his place, he began to send all eligible young men and women out into the war front.

All except for me.

I am a commodity. Merely the year after the glorious Elector died I had passed my Trial with flying colors—that is to say I am the second girl ever to get a perfect score on her Trial. The first was June, who was looked at as the greatest; I aspired to be June my whole life. As soon as it was recorded that my score had been perfect, I was not moved to the military as expected. Instead, I was whisked away to the Elector's office, the Capitol building. Stunned, flattered, and a little disappointed, I had been put in charge of practically everything in the Republic—all except for the Military and the Plague information.

I am on my way to the Capitol building now. No one there likes how accustomed I am to walking the streets like I normally do, but I find it relaxing. The people in these streets are unlike anyone I had ever met, and yet, they are exactly like them. While those in the military are rough, tough, and follow orders, these street walkers are the exact same, only disciplined for survival, not for the Republic's sake. They are people, just like those that work in the Capitol building, however underprivileged they might seem in comparison.

As I push my way through the streets, I run into a man. "Excuse me," I automatically say as I right myself and prepare to keep walking.

The man smiles down at me. He is older, wearing a military uniform, one decked out; telling me this man is a very high rank. Double striped arrows on his vest, five lines of badges from his acts in war. His hair is dark brown, streaked with some gray. When he smiles, I see that he has four golden molars in the back of his mouth. "Not a problem, young lady," he says. "You wouldn't happen to point me in the right direction of the Capitol building, would you? I can never find my way through these ruddy streets."

I do, telling him which turns to take and a shortcut I make up on the spot. He thanks me and sets out in the direction I give him.

Once I reach the building, I am ushered in by the guards that stand out front; they both solute me as I pass by. The Capitol building is magnificent, I've always thought. Beautiful marble floors and metallic tiled ceilings, my reflection shows everywhere in here, even as I start toward the front desk I can see myself in the mirrored wall behind her: Long black hair, bright blue eyes, a fine boned face, pale skin, cheeks flushed.

"Hello, Maryse," I say politely as I reach the receptionist.

She lifts her blond head and smiles. She is pretty, one of the prettiest girls in this building. I see a mark on her neck beneath her collar and bite my lip—seems as though the new Elector has noticed her as well. "How are you, Rose?" she asks as she begins to shift through papers to hand to me.

"Fine, as usual," I say. "Any papers?" I ask as she turns her office chair to look in another stack of papers.

"None that I can see," Maryse concludes, returning to the front of the desk with another smile.

"Good. Then I need to see the Elector," I reply.

She looks me up in down, judging whether or not I am serious. A sixteen year old like me should not be in the Capitol building for at least a few more years, and even at that rate it would take even longer to request to see the Elector. "May I ask why?" Maryse asks politely, but guardedly.

"There is a Colonist spy walking the streets trying to reach the Capitol building," I say with as much authority as I can.

Maryse shakes her head. "I can get you a meeting with the military's commander, Ms. Sharpe, but it would have to be extremely important for it to be the Elector's—"

"Two of them are already inside of the building, and he has a group on the outside of the building as well. All of them are armed with weapons, including bombs. Is _that _the Elector's business?"

I am in the elevator, making my way to the 25th floor. I had been to the penthouse of the Elector before, only a few times. The Elector had always taken a special interest in me, asking me to join him for a cup of coffee before I am to resume my duties in my office. He was tall and young to be in such a powerful position—in his early twenties, I had been told— with pale skin and dark, curling hair. His eyes intrigued me the most: though they were green and should have been inviting, they were cold and calculating. When he thought no one was looking, a troubled look came to those eyes; he was unsure of himself, very unlike his father.

When I reach his floor and am ushered into his room, he stands to greet me. His office is the same as the last time I had seen it, with a large wooden desk, tiled floor, and marble walls. There is a large window that looks out over the town, giving him a nice view of the activity that surfaces below. The room goes farther back as you look left, filled with large ornate couches, a Persian rug, and a huge fireplace. A chandelier hangs above it all.

I am tall for my age, coming to about five feet, eight inches, but the Elector is taller still; I would put him at six feet four, maybe five if I consider his hair. He is lean and precise with his movements; he was trained in a military base. The double linings of pins on his coat tell me that he was trained in the air force. He takes his jacket off, though, leaving him in a pristine white shirt and dark pants. He smiles when he greets me, though it doesn't touch his eyes. "My Rose," he says, "what a pleasant surprise."

I fight back the urge to step away from him. His stare is possessive, as if I really am _his _Rose. "Elector Arden," I say with a solute. He dismisses me and gestures for me to say what I have been sent up to tell him. "I believe we are being ambushed," I say.

The Elector's eyebrows pull together in concern as he considers this. He studies my face, probably wondering why I am telling him such grave news so nonchalantly. The truth is I was once taught to take everything in as neutral. If I pick sides, how am I to tell both weaknesses? Both strengths? My opinion will be tainted, biased.

"How did you come about this knowledge?" he asks, finally.

"On my own, sir," I reply. "While out in the street, I ran into a man dressed in a Captain's uniform, the most convincing one I've seen. When I looked at the buttons and lapels, though, I realized that they were the same as Captain Derting's; obvious to say that he was _not_Captain Derting."

When the Elector said nothing, I continued.

"He asked where the Capitol building was, a silly mistake, seeing that if he were in fact a Captain, he would have known where it was already. I gave him faulty directions, and considering the pace he was walking, he will probably be on the corner of Juniper and Larksford now— I've already alerted the military to seek him out."

"And he has back-up, I presume?" the Elector asks in a measured tone.

I nod. "He had an ear piece on. He talked directly to about five people on the streets, and at least two or three that had already infiltrated the building. Security is seeking them out now."

Looking unsettled, the Elector sat back on the edge of his desk. "How could all of them gotten into the city undetected? I don't understand it," he said. He looks at me. "How much time do we have until—"

An explosion rocks the building before he can finish the sentence. I am thrown sideways, forcing myself to knock into the wall beside me. As I look out of the large window that makes up a good part of his office, I see flames coming from one of the window below.

The Elector curses. He picks up the command device on his desk and begins barking orders into it, sending messages to all of the guards throughout the building.

"Sir," I say, "I don't mean to overstep my boundary, but I don't think you can stop them from overthrowing the building. The best thing to do is to get you out of here and somewhere safe where they cannot find you. Once the military has been dispatched to help here, they will seize the terrorists and imprison them. In the meantime—"

Elector Arden shakes his head. "My father would not stand for this. He would stay here, go down with the ship."

"The Republic cant risk losing two Electors in such a short time. You don't have an heir to take over if you are to be killed; you need to leave and seek shelter."

His eyes rake over me desperately. He shakes his head. "I will die if I leave." He is in front of me in two strides gripping me roughly. "I haven't had time to _live_, Rose."

I don't know what to say. I am afraid that if I open my mouth I will merely tell him something that he does not want to hear.

"Help me live, Rose."

"You're hurting me," I say calmly.

His grip only tightens. I can see in his eyes he truly believes that he has lost control of the Republic. I can see in his eyes that he has already lost control of himself.

"Sir, you're overreacting," I say. "These are just rebels. They are here to scare the Republic, nothing more. The only weapons they were armed with were knives and a few small bombs. This is why we need to get you out of here."

His lips come down on mine, hard.

I am repulsed. He can't be seriously kissing me right now. His left hand comes up to cup my face—he is left handed. I duck out of his grip and dodge to the right while he reaches with his left. "I'll pretend that didn't happen, sir." I am more annoyed than scared. This man is not a threat, he is merely a scared boy, jumping to insane actions when forced with stress; hence the hickey he left on the receptionist's neck earlier today when he wanted to relieve the stress of all of the dead military victims.

"Come here, Rose," he commands.

I begin to edge toward the door. "Just stay in here, sir, I can go to my office and see if I can override the elevators and stairwells so that no one can get you up here."

Before I can take another step, though, he is on his command device again. "Block my door," he says. "No one comes in or out, understand?"

Distantly, I hear the electric lock on his office door sliding home.

I am trapped.

I look for a way to escape. The window is too high of a jump, and I would probably get shot if I try to scale the side of the building at such a hectic time. There are no other entrances but the air vents. Elector Arden would surely catch me before I reach the vent above his desk, though.

I have to try.

With no military training, I am left to fight with my instincts. He is left handed: keep right. Block left swing with left elbow, block right kick by shoving his leg backward. Grab reaching right arm and twist the wrist, use momentum to swing up onto the desk and through the air vent.

I begin. I dodge right, block his left swing, shove his right leg backwards. I hear a snap as I do so and he screams in pain—I must have fractured something.

As soon as I grab his right wrist, though, his left arm snakes around me. I am caught.

"Stupid girl," he breathes into my ear. "We kept you out of the military for a reason."

He drags me over to the couch and throws me onto it. He is on top of me in an instant, straddling my legs and pinning my arms above my head. "You're so pretty, my Rose," he croons as he begins kissing my neck. "I always like the dresses you wear."

Though I am screaming internally, I remain calm on the outside. "You never see me in dresses," I reply.

"I watch you, Rose. Almost every day. I like this dress the best." He nips at the sleeve.

I throw all of my weight to the side and we both careen off of the couch. Stunned, the Elector lets go of me and I am free. I race to his desk, but not before he grabs my ankle and yanks me down. I hit my head on the tiled floor and nearly black out there. I will myself to stay alert, but my consciousness is fading fast.

The Elector is on top of me in an instant, his weight crushing me. "You're going to regret that," he rasps in my ear. I moan without meaning to.

The door is kicked in with a thunderous sound. I look up to see a boy standing there, taking in the scene before him. He is dressed in all black; the only color that stands out is his golden hair and striking blue eyes. His pale skin is tinted with what looks like soot; Broad shoulders, muscular chest, arms, and legs. He seems to be around seventeen and eighteen years old.

I push myself forward while the Elector is still stunned. I don't manage to get far. He grabs my wrist and pins it to the floor. I cry out in pain.

"Who are you?" the Elector asks as smoke pours into the room through the opened door.

The boy merely smiles. "Your worst nightmare," he states in a voice made of honey. His eyes meet mine for a brief moment before he starts toward us.

I am hoisted up into the Elector's arms before he can take another step. He produces a knife and holds it under my throat. "No farther," he commands. I am only barely conscious. I pray I stay awake.

The boy stops advancing. He presses a hand to his ear so he can better understand the voice that is apparently talking to him through an earpiece. He looks at me once more, then to the Elector.

The whole building rumbles. The quake is so violent that for a second the Elector falters and I have enough time to throw myself out of his arms. Once I am out of range, the boy aims a kick to the Elector's head, non-lethal.

"Come on," he says as the Elector goes down and I am helped to my feet. He grabs my hand and leads me out into the corridor. We only pause long enough for me to realize that he had killed the two guards quickly and quietly, leaving his knife in the chest of the second guard, and that the corridor is slowly filling up with smoke. The fire is spreading throughout the building. As the frame rumbles once more, I am knocked into the boy. He steadies me and leads me toward the stairwell. We run down the stairs as fast as we can; only stopping when we see flames in the lower levels. We had effectively gone down 23 floors.

The boy curses slightly, and I fear that I can no longer grasp to stay awake. I mumble something unintelligible and fall forward. The boy catches me easily, swinging me up over his shoulder.

"You better be worth it," he says just before I am lost completely.

**AN: Again, thanks for giving this story a chance! I'd really appreciate it if you guys told me what you think by a short (or long!) review! Till next time! Peace!**


	2. Chapter 2

**an: hey, guys, sorry this took so long! Fanfiction has been bugging out lately. I dont know if its my computer or what.. anyway, heres the second chapter! Enjoy! **

The ground I am lying on is hard: compact and dry. I must be in the desert. But how?

I open my eyes very slowly, ready to take in my surroundings. The first thing I see is fire: warm, blazing, bright. As I sit up I see the boy from the Capitol is sitting on the other side of the flames. He pays me no attention as he stokes the fire.

I turn around to see a glossy black motorcycle, coated in dust. How did he manage to get me all the way out here unconscious on a motorcycle?

"Don't," the boy says, finally looking up at me, "try to run. It won't be fun for either of us."

"I wouldn't," I reply. I put him at about 6' 2"- he is stronger and faster than me at 5' 7".

"Smart," the boy says. "The Republic must really be missing you, Rose."

I try not to show any signs of recognition to that name, but I know he can see it in my eyes I'm surprised he knows my identity.

He smiles, not unkindly. "The Republic's new legend. I know who you are Rose. You're famous, believe it or not."

I furrow my brow. "Famous? Hardly. And if you think kidnapping me is going to get a rise out of the Republic, you're wrong."

The smile doesn't fade. "You can't fool me, Rose." He stands and walks over to where I am sitting. Holding out a hand he says, "I'm Paris. I figure you should know my name as well."

I stare at his outstretched hand, but don't take it. "You should probably take your medicine soon," I say.

He drops his hand and sits down in front of me. "What makes you say that?" he asks.

I don't like his tone of voice. Judging by the lines in his face, the freckles on his nose, and the length of his hair, he is about the same age as me. Yet he is talking to me like a child. "The chink in your armor," I say. "You're dependent on the pills attached to your belt in that pouch." I nod to the pouch at his waist. "If you go too long without taking them, you get a slight tremor. I could tell you needed them when..." I trail off. _When you had your arms around me. I could tell it was killing you, but you still got me out of that building._ "When you kidnapped me," I finish, setting my chin.

"Observant," he says, seemingly at ease. "And here I thought your Divine Leader-"

"Glorious Elector," I correct.

Paris smirks. "Glorious Elector," he allows, "only liked you for your looks."

I say nothing, merely look at him. The light from the fire accentuates his cheekbones, which are more prominent than they should be- probably due to the sickness. The flames turn his eyes a bright golden color, but I know they are blue from before, when he walked into the Elector's office. His hair is long and blond, with one red streak in the front. I know that symbol, but I cant quite remember where it is from, what it means. He smiles crookedly once more, a pretty face overall. Very pretty.

I drop my gaze. "So what's the plan from here?" I ask.

"We wait for our ride to arrive," Paris answers simply.

"The bike is out of gas," I assume.

Paris nods.

"Don't you feel... Exposed out here?" I ask, looking around. I can only see as far as the fire illuminates, the rest is pitch black.

Paris lays back, the picture of ease. "No. I doubt anyone will find us but the Capitol. I took a very specific route in and out of the border."

I don't lay back. I am perfectly still. I begin to imagine the things that might be lurking just outside of the light, watching me.

Paris fixes his eyes on me. "You're not scared of the dark, are you?" he asks, raising an eyebrow.

I expel a breath. "Don't be silly," I say. "I just don't want to sleep."

"You probably should," Paris recommends. "They won't get here till morning. Get your rest."

Slowly, I ease back onto the ground, trying to calm my nervous mind.

Paris is still watching me, seeming unsure. "I'll keep you safe, Rose." He says, looking as though that wasn't what he meant to say.

Allowing that statement, and the knife safely tucked inside of my boot, to calm me, I let my eyes slide closed and sleep find me.

**an: Thanks for reading! I really appreciate it! Reviews are appreciated as well!c:**


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: hiiiiiiiiiiii... happy reading!**

I am gently shaken awake. I flinch into the hard dirt I am lying on and open my eyes to see Paris leaning over me. His eyes are very blue and serious. "Get up," he says.

I do, just slow enough to edge an annoyed set into the lines of his mouth. "What are we doing?" I ask, trying not to show how nervous I really am to be alone in the desert with him.

His face is expressionless. "We're going to have to walk. Our ride is on the way," he says before turning and starting off. Judging by the shadow of the rising sun, he's headed west, toward the Colonies.

I follow, none too closely, behind Paris, studying him as he walks. He has a lean body, muscled and toned. No matter how sick he may be, you wouldn't know it about him. I study the way the muscles in his back move as he swings his arms behind his head and stretches. The dark shirt his is wearing folds and I see more of his pale skin, blushing.

As if sensing my stare, he turns to look at me. "Will you keep up?" he asks. "I don't want to have to crane my neck to keep an eye on you."

"Not like I'd run," I say, but quicken my pace until I fall into place beside him.

We lapse into a not so comfortable silence. Paris doesn't seem to mind it; he seems deep in thought. I wasn't against it either; it let me clear my head. I began to go through the plans that the Republic would be devising to get me back. Maybe they'll send a fleet, maybe just one spokesman.

_Maybe, _I think, _you will be forgotten. After that incident with the Glorious Elector, he might not want to get you back. _

To take my mind off of that thought, I turn and look at Paris. The sun is behind his head, lighting his hair to make a sort of haloed effect. "What does your tattoo mean?" I ask, curious.

"_Sic semper tyrannis_," he says instantly. "It means—"

"I _know _what it means," I say quickly, not wanting to seem stupid in front of him, " I speak Latin."

"Thus always to Tyrants," Paris says anyway. "And if you knew what it meant, why'd you ask?"

"I was wondering," I say quietly, "what it means to you."

Paris was quiet for a moment, staring at the red dirt of the desert in front of him. Then, "Brutus wasn't evil. It's a very old story, mind you—"

"I know the story," I say, though I doubt he cares whether or not I know.

He merely levels a look at me before turnining back. "As I was saying," he continues, "When I was told the story, no matter how old, I could understand where Brutus was coming from."

"Even so," I say, thinking it over, "just feeling bad for someone in a story doesn't have that much of an impact on you."

"I can associate with him," is all he says. I can tell by the look on his face that he doesn't wish to elaborate.

I drop the subject and bite my lip, trying to think of some way to contact the Republic. Maybe if I commandeered that earpiece of his and rewired it…

"Is your Elector always that cozy with you?" Paris asks suddenly.

I stop short, giving a little squeak of surprise and looking at him. "What?" I ask.

He looks sidelong at me. "You heard me," he says. "Is he always that hands-on?"

I blanch. "No," I snap immediately. But I can still feel his fingers digging into my skin, leaving a tracery of bruises that my dress cannot hide. "At least, not with me," I say, more quiet.

Paris seems to consider for a moment. "You're welcome," he says.

I give another start. "I never thanked you," I say, incredulous.

"While I do have to say that ungratefulness is a very unattractive trait, I never really thought the Republic had exactly broken the mold with you."

Without thinking twice, I slap him across the face, hard.

The next instant, I am on the ground. My hands are pinned above my head and I am staring into the eyes of Paris. The blue is hard and cold when he says, "Don't hit me again. There's a reason you're in a dress and not a uniform."

I simply stare back, unapologetic.

It is then that I hear a distant rumbling. I crane my neck to look past Paris and see a rising plume of dust in the distance. I raise an eyebrow and look at Paris. "Your ride?" I ask.

He says nothing, simply hauls me to my feet.

I watch as the cloud of dust gets larger- they're close. Not even a klick away. I turn back to face Paris. "What will they do with me?" I ask.

Paris simply shakes his head. "I don't know."

"Why did you take me if you don't know?"

His brow furrows. He looks like a sorrowful angel. "I don't know," he says once more.

I can now see the car coming toward us in the distance. It will be here any moment. I rip my wrist free from Paris' grip and shove him away from me. Momentarily stunned, he falls back, caught off guard. I turn and run away from him, run back toward the Republic. I know in the back of my head that I will not make it far, but I have to try.

I hear footsteps behind me, coming up fast. When I am tackled to the ground, I am surprised at the light weight of the one on top of me. Very feminine build. I am pinned face down to the ground, but as I turn my head and cough, I see that there is a spill of black hair blending with mine on the ground. I shove throw an elbow back into the girl's unguarded abdomen and hear her exhale in pain. I shove with all of my might and she falls over, but not for long. Regaining her strength, she has pounced on me in an instant, once again on top of me.

I cry out as she grabs a fistful of my hair and knocks my head back into the dirt. "What have you done, Eden?"

Paris ignores what the girl has just said. "Nice to see you, too, June. I'm fine, don't worry about me."

"No one was," came a third voice. I can just barely make out another blond-headed male standing behind the girl that Paris called-

"June!" I exclaim, looking at the girl pinning me to the ground.

The girl snaps her focus onto me. She is long and lean, with wide dark eyes and dark hair. Her look is calculating. "Do I know you?" she asks.

I merely shake my head. She has no idea who I am, but I know a lot about her.

The male behind June lets out a low whistle. "She looks just like you, June," he says.

June narrows her eyes. "Her eyes," she says. "They're blue."

The blond man swims into my focus now. He looks so much like Paris that I give a small start. But that's not why I furrow my brow at him. "You look familiar," I say.

"I should," he merely says. "But I figure your Republic has probably tried to wipe the memory of Day clear for everyone."

"You're Day?" I ask. I try sitting up. I have to tell the Republic about this.

I am stuck with a long needle before I can move another inch. I see June pull a syringe out of the vein in my throat and sit back on her heels.

"Guess we should get her in the van," Paris says.

Day glares at the boy. "Don't forget it's your fault we have to deal with her at all."

Paris doesn't seem phased at all. "She's June," is all he says.

June's head snaps up at that. "What?" she asks, surprised.

"She's taken your place in the Republic. You know how important you were," Paris explains.

"Not very," is all June says, grabbing me by the arm and hauling me to my feet.

"Don't be humble," Day says wryly.

June shoots him a withering look as she lets go of my arm. "She won't run now; she can't."

It takes me a moment for that to set in- my mind feels foggy and slow. Whatever she injected me with-

I collapse and fall sideways. Paris catches at me with ease and hauls me up into his arms, like I'm some sort of delicate package, or a large baby. I want to shove away from him, but can't move my limbs. "What..." I start slowly. "What is this?"

June's smile glitters like poison. "Oh, honey, we're just getting started."

I black out.

**AN: OMJ GUYS! I was just thinking about the book Legend in general and got this really crazy idea for my fanfic! So review so I can get on with the story(;**


	4. Chapter 4

**Hello my lovely readers! I saw all of the reviews for this story and I just had to sit down and crank out a chapter before I had a wanted poster with my face on it and an angry mob searching for me! I hope you enjoy this chapter. I'm sorry its so short! **

When I wake, I am still dizzy. I keep my eyes closed and listen intently to get a grasp on my surroundings making sure to keep my breathing deep and even. The first thing I hear is the tires spinning across dirt underneath me. We may be still in the desert. I hear the creaking joints of the car as we pass over pot holes and bumps in the track. Finally, I listen to the noises that the people in the car with me are making.

"Like I said," Paris was saying, obviously irritated by the tone of his voice, "she was terrified of that man. Who knows what he would have done to her if I hadn't have interrupted."

"Fear and opposition don't necessarily go hand in hand," I hear June say. "To some it fuels them, to others it drives them closer to their abusers. We cant know for sure what this girl thinks of her leader or even of us."

"She's right, Eden," Day says. "It was a stupid call for you to bring her and it's pointless arguing for her sake now. We're going to take her to see the Elders and then we'll deal with her after her trial."

It doesn't take long for me to realize that they are talking about me. I am to be brought to Colonies and tried before some people that they think are fit to judge me. Despite myself, I have to agree with Day and June. They're right. Paris- or Eden- doesn't know what I'm thinking and sure as hell doesn't know me well enough to make calls on my thoughts and feelings on any subject.

But if it's a trial they want, it's a trial they'll get. And now I know that I am the key that the Republic needs. I am being taken inside of the enemies lines and if I pass as one of them through this trial and stick close enough with June and Day, I can find out whatever I want to find out and use it to my advantage.

The car hits another pot hole and I jerk involuntarily. It wont be long before they realize that I am really awake. I try to calm my breathing down and get a sense of my surrounding a bit more before I officially come-to.

I open my eyes to see Paris sitting across from me in the vehicle. It doesn't take me long to notice that I am on a bench in the car while Paris is sitting on the floor. He squints at me to make sure I really am conscious and then grins. "Morning, sunshine!" he says cheerfully.

I sit up quickly and regret the choice to move just as fast. I groan and grab at my head as the room spins wildly out of control.

"Welcome back," June's voice says from somewhere I can't focus on yet.

"Just let me go," I say weakly.

"Not until you meet with the big guys," Paris says.

I shoot a glare at him. "Who are you?" I ask.

"My name is Eden."

"I thought you said it was Paris."

"I lied."

We stare at each other for a few more seconds. He has blond hair and eyes like Day who is in the front seat driving the bus and seemingly ignoring the conversation going on behind him. Day is handsome, with the face of someone that you could easily trust your whole life with- and watch helplessly as it is ruined by the same pretty face. It pains me to admit that Paris has the same look about himself: handsome. Maybe they are related. They must be. I want to ask, but save the question for a better time. Eden winks before June steps into my view.

"Look," she says, "we just need you to answer a few questions before a council and then, depending on how you answer, we'll figure everything out."

My vision finally stops doubling and I can take a good look at her. Surprisingly, she does look a lot like me. Uncannily so. Maybe I have been brought into a world where there are nothing but look-alikes running about, impersonating people that are from the Republic. I quickly dismiss this when I remember that June was originally from the Republic- Day as well. The similarities between us are very startling, but I could think about that later. "Are any of these outcomes from the trial in my favor?" I ask.

June smiles, not kindly, and says, "We can only hope."

"And if they are in my favor, you guys will take me back to the Republic?" I ask, not breaking my gaze with June. She's used to being in command, being above everyone else around her. I was not about to show her that she was the dominant one. Not with me she wasnt.

"It's really not that simple." Paris says.

I open my mouth to argue with him, but Day cuts me off.

"We've made it to the first checkpoint," he says. He turns and looks back to study me. "You should be grateful for the courtesy we're granting you, Rose," he says, not unkindly. "Welcome to the Colonies."

**Read and review my lovelies! Thank you so much for the patience and the nice reviews! Till next time! **


	5. Chapter 5

**YOU SHOULD PROBABLY READ**** THIS: Hi, guys! I was just ****reading through the fanfics that I haven't updated in a while. I've been debating back and forth on what I should do with this story. I've read Marie Lu's "Prodigy" (and it was awesome sauce, she's a genius, I loved it!)but the fact that her Prodigy is so much different than mine makes me worry that I'll have more disappointed fans than satisfied ones. For one, I don't like writing my fanfics from a characters point of view that I haven't invented (Marie Lu created June, not me, so I really wouldn't know how to portray her correctly and it would probably just be a let down for all of us). That being said, I could potentially go on with this story if you, the readers, would like me to (and I'd love to, if you'll let me!). I would just want the readers to know that The Colonies that I have in my story are really nothing like The Colonies that Lu had portrayed for us in Prodigy (oh, and Anden is a pretty different guy in my story, too- though I do love the twist Lu put on him in her story). I would also like you guys to consider the fact that my story takes place a little while after Marie Lu's Prodigy takes place as well; I mean Eden is 17 in this story so that would put June and Day in their mid to late 20's. What I'm trying to say is that this story has the potential to be continued, you guys would just have to be more in my little world than you may (and I certainly don't (MarieMe)) like! But if you are interested in what I have to write, than please let me know! I'd love to continue this, but I don't want to get a lot of complaints that it doesn't exactly match up with Lu's version. Phew, sorry for the long tangent! Here's a new chapter for you! Enjoy!  
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I stare out the window of the bus as we slowly make our way into what I assume would be The Colonies. Distantly I notice that Paris-or Eden, whatever- has come to sit down next to me, but I am paying more attention into what we are driving into. From what I can see in my spot in the bus, The Colonies are a mass of disheveled looking buildings, looking decades out of use. We are stopped at a giant metal arc, about 700 feet into the air. I could tell from where I was sitting that there were bits of the metal that had fallen off and it was starting to rust after years of harsh weather conditions and no up-keeping. Even so, it was the most beautiful thing that I had ever seen. It seemed to resemble a sort of vestige of hope, conveying to everyone passing under it that they were in a very different territory than the Republic.

"Pretty impressive, huh?" Eden asks as he follows my gaze upward.

I remain silent, not cluing him in to how I really feel about The Colonies so far. I clench my fists in my lap to keep them from shaking as I see June hop out of the bus and talk to a few of the armed guards standing on duty. She motions vaguely to the car and I know that she is talking about me. They will take me to a trial and I will most likely be found guilty- though their territory was beautiful in it's own derelict way, I know that they must be just as vicious when dealing with the opposing side of the war.

Eden stares at my balled hands and smiles. "Ah," he remarks, "and her confidence is waning. Could the Republic's Prodigy not be as strong as we were led to believe?" he asks, feigning shock.

I want to hit him. I want to call him every bad name I can think of and storm off of this bus with what dignity I still have intact.

But instead I bite my lip and look at him. "What will they do when they find me guilty?" I ask quietly.

It must have been something in my voice, for he drops the charade for a moment and really looks at me, those piercing blue eyes looking into mine and holding them. "_If_," he corrects, "they find you guilty, you'll probably be imprisoned for the remainder of your long and not-so-prosperous life."

I nod as if that is exactly what I want to hear, even though it does absolutely nothing to calm my nerves. More than anything I wanted to be back in The Republic. There I wasn't a prisoner, I was the complete opposite. I wouldn't be racking my brain for defense mechanisms to hold me up in a court, and I certainly wouldn't be staring at this boy that seemed both utterly mad and pure genius at the same time with the lightest blue of irises I have ever seen.

And Eden wasn't looking at me as though what he saw was half bad, either. I took a deep breath and looked sharply to the door when I heard footsteps approaching.

June has returned to the bus along with two men each holding an assault rifle. I tried to make sense of the brand and type of semi-automatic that they were using, but everyone was right: they _had _kept me out of the military for a reason. Besides, the guns that they were holding didn't seem to be the same that those in The Republic used.

They sit themselves across from me as Day starts to drive us under the bridge. I look the men up and down as they situate themselves. They did not wear armor like those in The Republic- they didn't even have a uniform. They are both much larger than me and both hold weapons. Maybe they assume that I am as good as June was when it came to military training and they need the extra precaution. The dress should have given it away, I think, but who know what they think.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Paris pull a large black sack out from behind him. "It's about to get really dark, Rose," he says quietly.

Of course I understand immediately: no one in this bus wants me figuring out how this city works just yet. They don't trust me and they don't see any reason not to tag me as a flight risk. I say nothing, just sit as still as I can in the jostling vehicle as Eden places the bag over my head. It smells of burlap and some type of wheat, but it does achieve the end result of impairing my vision completely. I sigh.

"Next stop," Day says from the front of the bus, "The Capitol's Court House."

_Let the trial begin, _I think as we roll forward.

**AN: okay sorry it was so short, but my author's note in the beginning took up a lot of space. Just please let me know what you all think! I'm also going to change the title as well so as not to try and copy Lu's book title! So don't be confused if it's not called "Prodigy" anymore! Till next time! **


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